Bian quietly followed behind the Farian, watching the way he limped with each step. The alien man balanced himself with his long sword, not for show but out of necessity. His leg was clearly hurt, and yet he moved as if nothing was wrong, pushing forward without pause.
Bian sped up, keeping his head low.
"Please… You'll hurt your leg more," he said gently. "Lean on me. I'll help you."
He wasn't entirely lying. He did want to help. But he also wanted to get close. The Farian was his chance—his chance to gather information, maybe even learn about General Xing. But the alien man didn't even look at him kindly.
"It will heal soon," the Farian replied coldly, then kept walking, ignoring him.
Bian lowered his eyes and followed in silence.
As they passed a ruined street, the Farian suddenly paused in front of a partially burned noodle shop. His eyes locked on the cracked sign, and he licked his lips faintly. Bian followed his gaze.
